


I Don't Know How But They Found Me

by cavedinwriter



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Friends to Enemies to Lovers, Guns, M/M, Mob Boss(of sorts) Ricky Goldsworth, Non-Graphic Violence, no beta we die like men, that wasnt a typo they gotta fight before they can get together, what do you even call this relationship? mcclintsworth? goldstock?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:41:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21979015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cavedinwriter/pseuds/cavedinwriter
Summary: Ricky was used to getting whatever he wanted. He had power and influence over so much. If he snapped his fingers, somebody would always come running. Therefore, the fact that there was someone out there who wouldn’t do everything he asked just ‘cause he asked pissed him off. He wasn’t used to people saying no. That made him all the more intrigued.The object of his intrigue was a man who worked all the parties he had. Banjo McClintock. He was a quiet man, tall and slim, but there was something about him that always caught Ricky’s eye. He’d always seemed like he would be a good addition to Ricky’s team, and he’d asked many times. Most other people would jump at the opportunity, but McClintock’s answer was always a slow shake of the head.
Relationships: Ricky Goldsworth/Banjo McClintock
Comments: 6
Kudos: 36





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this is based off the the band I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME, because a bunch of their songs inspired it so eventually I realized that the band name worked even better than an individual song.  
> This is unbeta'd cause I'm lazy, and it's also my first BFU fic(of presumably many more). It's not gonna be too long I don't think!  
> Anyway, enough preamble. Please enjoy!

Ricky Goldsworth always looked forward to his parties. It meant drinking, having a good time, and making schemes. It meant getting to show off to everyone in town. It also meant… a certain level of frustration. See, Ricky was used to getting whatever he wanted. He had power and influence over so much. If he snapped his fingers, somebody would always come running. Therefore, the fact that there was someone out there who wouldn’t do everything he asked just ‘cause he asked pissed him off. He wasn’t used to people saying no. That made him all the more intrigued.

The object of his intrigue was a man who worked all the parties he had. Banjo McClintock. He was a quiet man, tall and slim, but there was something about him that always caught Ricky’s eye. Maybe it was his reflexes. Seldom did he drop a glass, and if he did, he always caught it. He never danced, as it wasn’t expected of him, but he moved quickly and lightly and never treaded on anyone’s toes. He’d always seemed like he would be a good addition to Ricky’s team, and he’d asked many times. Most other people would jump at the opportunity, but McClintock’s answer was always a slow shake of the head.

At this point, Ricky was getting frustrated. He needed new hands, and he needed people he knew he could rely on. He didn’t have many other options. Tonight, tonight he was determined to turn on the charm and get McClintock on his side. He’d only ever tried so hard, so maybe if he took the man aside and made it personal, he’d be able to convince him.

Tonight’s party’s agenda was little more than being showy. He just needed to remind the city what he was capable of. There had been more and more attacks against him and his recently, and he wanted to make it clear that he was still as strong as ever. Even if that wasn’t necessarily true.

Tonight was a night like many others for Banjo McClintock. He was standing in his drafty apartment, in front of an old mirror, straightening out his bow tie. He was working a Goldsworth party tonight. The family had a party at least every month, not that Banjo was complaining. It meant at least one job he could rely on. Ricky Goldsworth had time and time again tried to recruit him for more than parties, but Banjo really wasn’t interested. He didn’t feel like getting in over his head, despite the fact that just being connected to the Goldsworths through the parties could be enough.

He heaves a sigh. Ricky’s probably gonna find him again tonight. Admittedly, it would be nice to have a bit more stability, and maybe a nicer place to stay. But, of course, it would come at the cost of possibly being shot at any time. He wasn’t about that life. Banjo blinked once, then ran a hand through his hair. He looked presentable enough, he decided. With that, he was ready for the night.

The room was slowly filling, people trickling in through the guarded doors. Ricky generally didn’t have to be worried about safety, but with the way things had been going lately he couldn’t be too sure. He scanned the room, looking for the familiar face in the crowd. There. In the southeast corner, he saw McClintock’s tall figure. He wandered over with his usual swagger in his step. He saw the moment that McClintock registered that he was coming over, and heard the sigh.

“Good evening.” Ricky said with a grin that was all teeth.

“Evenin’.” He replied, barely looking at him. Ricky’s smile didn’t falter.

“I’d like you to join my in my office after the party.” He saw the confusion flash across Banjo’s face, but it was quickly masked with a blank stare.

“Have I done something wrong?” Banjo’s tone was even.

“Quite the contrary.” Ricky winked, “I’ll expect to see you at 12.”

“I- Uh,” Banjo started, but Ricky was already walking away “Oh. Okay.”

Ricky took care to ignore the man for the rest of the party. Build up the intrigue and all that. He could see Banjo glancing at him across the room, but he kept his gaze straight and shoulders back. 

Later in the evening, Ricky was watching his mother Lucy making a speech. She was always a better speaker than he was. She had a way with swaying crowds and making them feel for her, whereas Ricky specialized in intimidating individuals. He and his mom were a good team. Then there was Francesca Norris, who Ricky considered to be his right hand. She had been working with them for a long time, sticking around longer than anyone else who’d worked with them. 

She was around Ricky’s age, with sleek black hair and a cold look on her face 90% of the time. She helped Ricky gather information on their enemies, and she was damn good at it. Unfortunately, she was sick, which meant it was only Ricky and his mom at the moment. He always did his best to keep up appearances and make it seem like they had many more people on their side. And really they did, most people who knew what was going on were on the side of the Goldsworths. But they were running low on personnel who could actually help them out. 

That’s why he wanted Banjo McClintock to join them. He would be a good addition, and at this point, he probably knew too much to be let alone. He’d worked every party the Goldsworths had for the past 2 years(which was too many to count), so it would give Ricky some peace of mind to have a handle on him.

Luckily, the partygoers seemed like they hadn’t noticed the decline of the Goldsworth family. They were eagerly hanging on to Lucy’s every word, which was how it always was. Ricky smiled proudly.

Lucy Goldsworth was in the middle of her speech when there was a loud crack from the front of the room that made Banjo spin around. The door had been kicked open. Several men with their faces covered, holding guns, had burst in. Shit. 

The room immediately burst into chaos, people fleeing away from the doors. Lucy ran up the stairs to hide somewhere and he wasn’t sure where Ricky had gone. As Banjo ducked behind a pole, he spotted Ricky on the stairs, clearly trying to decide where to hide. The gunmen clearly had a plan; they were waving people out of the way with their guns, stalking through the room headed for Ricky. Banjo sprung out from behind the pole and into action, weaving through the crowd. Ricky already had a gun drawn, but it would be a pistol against a machine gun, and he knew how that would turn out. Banjo vaulted over a table and brought it down with him, making a shield between himself and Ricky and the gunman. Ricky ducked down beside him quickly.

“Good thinking, McClintock.” Ricky flashed him a grin and pulled another pistol out of his jacket, tossing it to him. Of course. “You know how to use that thing?”

“‘Course.” He replied. Ricky raised his eyebrows.

“Well, aren’t you just full of surprises.” Without another word, he stood up from behind the table and fired a shot. From the yell and thud Banjo heard immediately after, he figured it was safe to say Ricky had hit his target. 

“Let’s move.” Banjo said, jerking his head towards the halls behind them. There were rooms where many of the other guests were already taking shelter.

“Not that way,” Ricky shook his head, “There’s more weapons upstairs. We gotta take care of these guys. Can’t let them hurt anybody.”

“Come out, Goldsworth!” A voice roared, and… Banjo is pretty sure he recognizes it. He isn’t able to dwell on it too long though, because Ricky’s got a vice grip around his wrist and is dragging him upstairs. He feels chips of marble hitting against his legs as the man behind them shoots after them, thankfully always a little behind.

Ricky shoves him behind a pole and ducks into a room, then comes out a moment later with two revolvers and a wicked grin on his face.

“Catch!” He yells, and Banjo watches him fire off several shots into the man below them after tossing one of the guns to Banjo.

He catches the gun and leans out from behind the pole, aiming at the remaining three men. Two of them have been shot already but aren’t down(As is the nature of criminals having parties, most people have a weapon on them just in case). Luckily for Banjo, they were all focused on Ricky, so none of them saw it coming when he shot them.

They fell to the ground with various cries, and he looked over to see Ricky giving him another blinding grin.

“Ricky!” Lucy Goldsworth came out from one of the rooms to check on her son. She grabbed his face in her hands, but he brushed her hands away gently.

“I’m fine, mama.”

“You,” She turned to Banjo, “Thank you for keeping my son safe. As safe as he’ll let you, anyway. God, now we have to clean all this up.” She scowled down at the wreckage of the room below them. Tables and chairs had been bowled over. Thankfully, the only casualties seemed to be the gunmen. They hadn’t hurt anyone, even for intimidation’s sake. Strange, they really were only out for the Goldsworths, it seemed.

People were hesitantly poking their heads out of hiding places as Banjo, Lucy and Ricky picked their way down the shot-up steps. Banjo watched Ricky stare disdainfully at the bleeding bodies. Banjo’s eyes widened as he saw one of them twitch and move.

“Ricky, he-” Banjo started, but the man was already staggering to his feet. Ricky looked over and was already reloading his gun, but he was too late. The gunman was already stumbling out the door.

“Shit.” Ricky cursed, running to the door. Banjo followed. The yellow light of the house only lit up so much of the garden, and large hedges blocked a lot of the view. The man was already gone into the darkness. Banjo started to take a step forward into the darkness, but a strong arm across his chest stopped him.

“Do you want me to-” Banjo started.

“No,” Ricky’s gaze was fixed on the dark street, “No. Come with me. Might as well have our little chat now, huh?” Banjo pursed his lips but said nothing. They walked back inside together, passing Lucy talking to the guests and putting the room back together somewhat.

“Shouldn’t we help?”

“I’ll fix things in the morning.” Ricky said nonchalantly, as if it was only a normal party’s mess to clean up. They walked back up the decimated steps in the center of the room, Ricky leading him through a series of twisting corridors. Banjo had never been this deep into the house; he usually was only allowed on the main floor.

Eventually, Ricky opened the door to what Banjo assumed was his office. It was nice, just like the rest of the house, all dark wood and polished marble. Ricky swung himself onto the desk, facing Banjo.

“So.” Ricky said expectantly.

“So.”

“Do you know why you’re here?”

“You said I’m not in trouble, so I’m assuming you’re trying to recruit me again.”

“Correct. So?”

“No thanks.” Banjo shifted his weight. Ricky scowled.

“Why not? You clearly know what you’re doing, and I think you’d be a valuable asset. I can get you anything you want, McClintock,” Ricky slid off the desk, pushing up his sleeves, “Tell me, what is it you want? Money? Don’t you want to do something other than work parties?”

“I’d rather not get shot. Generally, that’s not a risk at parties. Except yours.” Banjo kept his eyes forward, even as Ricky circled him like a shark.

“Seems to me like you’re pretty good at avoiding getting shot.”

“Maybe so. Doesn’t mean I want more practice.”

“You still haven’t answered my question.”

“What is it that I want?” Ricky was back in front of him now, so close that Banjo could practically feel the shorter man’s breath.

“Mhhm.”

“I want…” Banjo looked at Ricky for a long moment, “I want you to stop trying to recruit me. I’m fine working parties, I get by well enough.” Ricky took a step back, his expression going cold.

“Fine.”

“Great.” Banjo gave him a curt nod before leaving the room. 

The trip home was uneventful for Banjo. He’d stayed a little to help Lucy and some others clean up, but he’d left quickly after Ricky came downstairs with a grim look on his face. It had started to rain a little bit, and Banjo was grateful that he’d driven. 

When he arrived home and stepped into the rain, he felt a chill run up his spine. He felt as though there were eyes on him. Quickly, he glanced around him to see that nobody had followed him. He didn’t see anyone, but he hurried inside anyway. As soon as he locked the door, he felt much safer, but he still felt on edge the rest of the evening. He took care to lock the windows and draw the curtains fully closed in each room.

It took him a long time to get to sleep that night, because he kept jerking awake at every little noise. It was an old apartment, so the noises were nothing out of the ordinary, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that someone had followed him. After a while, he pushed his covers off and stood up. He just needed to check one more time that the windows were locked.

As he entered the living room, he saw a sight that made his blood run cold. One of the windows was open, and the curtains were blowing slightly. In front of the window stood a silhouette he could’ve sworn he’d seen before, illuminated from behind by the light of the moon. That was the last thing he remembered from that night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chill of the night air gave way to warmth as Banjo was led inside some sort of building. He was pulled and pushed through several hallways until finally he was pushed to his knees and the bag was ripped from his head. He took a deep breath in as his eyes adjusted to the warm orange light around him.  
> He was in a room that was by all rights unfamiliar, but he knew he’d seen much of the decor before. This was confirmed as his eyes finally focused and he saw the man standing in front of him.  
> “Banjo! Long time no see.”

Everything was dark, even though Banjo was sure his eyes were open. His wrists and ankles were bound together, though not extremely tightly. There was a lot of jostling going on, so he figured he was in a car. He exhaled and felt his breath waft back on his face. There was a bag over his head. Lovely. This is exactly what he’d wanted to avoid.

He resisted the urge to tug on the ropes around him. Maybe if he pretended to still be unconscious, he could overhear some clue about his whereabouts. To his disappointment, whoever his captor was remained silent. He took a breath to calm himself, and inhaled the scent of imported cigar smoke. It felt unpleasantly familiar. He took another deep breath, and the faint smoke once again filled his lungs. Yeah, he recognized that scent. Shit.

Ricky paced his office angrily. What was he supposed to do now? Banjo had declined his offer, and there was someone out there in the city who had the guts to storm his party. He hadn’t recognized any of the gunmen, even after looking over the corpses. He also didn’t know anyone in the city who had the nerve to pull something like that at a party.

It had to be someone new. Someone up-and-coming, or someone from out of state. He had loads of enemies but they at least had class and decency. None of them would threaten an entire party if they didn’t have to. Who could it possibly be, then?

He strode out of his office, and immediately noticed how cold it was. He turned his head and saw a window open. That wouldn’t do. Not only was it cold, but he didn’t want to risk anyone sneaking in. He went around the rest of the floor, closing and locking all the windows tightly.

Banjo felt the car smoothly pull to a stop. Two car doors opened, then closed, then his door was opened. He felt hands grab him by the shoulders and pull him to his feet. The door slammed behind him. Hands guided him forward, and a gruff voice spoke.

“Stairs.” 

Banjo lifted his feet a little higher, making his way blindly up the stairs. The chill of the night air gave way to warmth as he was led inside some sort of building. He was pulled and pushed through several hallways until finally he was pushed to his knees and the bag was ripped from his head. He took a deep breath in as his eyes adjusted to the warm orange light around him.

He was in a room that was by all rights unfamiliar, but he knew he’d seen much of the decor before. This was confirmed as his eyes finally focused and he saw the man standing in front of him.

“Banjo! Long time no see.” The man grinned. He was almost 6 feet tall, with a large build, and slicked back gray hair. Rings glittered across his fingers and his suit was perfectly pressed, as always.

“Not long enough.” Banjo said, trying to keep his tone neutral. The man’s grin didn’t falter in the slightest.

“Good to see you haven’t changed a bit.”

“I hope I have.”

“No, you really haven’t,” he said, pacing slowly around his desk, “Because you’re here.”

“Not of my own volition.” Banjo reminded him, shaking his bound wrists to prove his point. The man waved his hand dismissively.

“I didn’t come for you, you know?”

“Oh?” That was news to Banjo. Sort of. He hadn’t expected the man to come after him personally, but he hadn’t expected to make it this long.

“No, you’re not that important,” he said with no malice, “I came here because of the Goldsworths. And who did I find working for them but my dear old pal, Banjo McClintock.”

“I just work at parties for them, I swear. I don’t know anything.”

“Bullshit,” The man hissed, the friendliness gone from his eyes. Then he straightened his tie and a calm facade fell over him once again, “Ahem. Why should I believe that? It’s no coincidence that you just so happen to end up working for a crime family in a new town.” The ‘ _ again _ ’ was unspoken.

“I don’t just work for the Goldsworths. If anyone has a party and they need extra hands, I’m there. I can prove it. Banjo pleaded, but it felt useless. He knew the man standing in front of him, knew that he wouldn’t stop until he got the answer he wanted. Which is why his blood ran cold when he didn’t scream, or pull a gun, or show anger. Instead,

“I believe you,” he said, “You never were good at lying to me, anyway.”

“Thanks.” Banjo said sarcastically.

“Well, I don’t care if you work with people other than the Goldsworths. Ricky has shown himself capable of holding his own against us in a direct attack, so I want to go for something more subtle.” He looked down meaningfully at Banjo.

“What?” he said weakly, but he knew exactly what was going on.

“I want you to do some good old-fashioned spying for me, McClintock. Ricky’s a smart man, I’m sure he’s seen your potential. You’re going to ask for a job opportunity. He needs the extra hands, as you put it, so he’s in no state to refuse.”

“That won’t work. He doesn’t want me.” Banjo lied. The man scoffed.

“I said you were never good at lying to me, McClintock.”

“...Fine. What’s in it for me?” He sighed. He couldn’t believe he was doing this. Again.

“I don’t kill you, that’s what. If I really need to, I can always find another pawn.” The man snapped his fingers and the bag was pushed over Banjo’s head once more.

That’s how Banjo McClintock found himself outside of Ricky Goldsowrth’s house for the second time in as many days. The light was fading, and there was a gentle drizzle once again. He swung open the large gates and walked through the hedges that flanked the road. They were dark green and glistening in the rain, a stark contrast against the gray sky.

It took him a long time to get to the front door, but he wasn’t in a hurry. He was trying not to think about how suspicious it was that he was coming back to accept Ricky’s offer immediately after refusing it for the nth time the night before. He tried to calm his nerves as he approached the building, but by the time he stood on the doorstop, his hands were shaking. Hopefully Ricky wouldn’t notice. 

Banjo raised a fist and knocked, not expecting to get an answer for a while. There was a long silence, long enough that he was considering knocking again in case they hadn’t heard. Then, the door cracked open and Lucy Gold stared out at him, then swung the door open wider. He could see that the room behind her was still being cleaned.

“McClintock.”

“Hello, ma’am. Is Ricky in?” He asked, hands folded behind his back to hide how they shook.

“Yes,” she looked him over again, “Come in. I’ll get him.”

Banjo walked in and watched her ascend the stairs and turn down some hallway. He looked around the room. There were of course still bullet holes in the marble stairs and pillars. The broken glass had been swept, the tables moved, and the bodies… gotten rid of somehow. He could still see red staining the floor in some places, but there were people at work scrubbing away the marks.

“What brings you back here so soon?” Ricky called, and Banjo looked up to see him leaning over the banister. His usual blank grin was strung across his face.

“Can we talk in private?” Banjo asked. Ricky raised an eyebrow but nodded, jerking his head behind him. Banjo obeyed, walking up the stairs and following him back to his office.

Ricky gestured for him to sit down when they entered his office, but Banjo didn’t. They stayed standing, facing each other, the desk between them.

“I, uh, was hoping that maybe I could retract what I said last night.” Banjo started. Ricky cocked his head, face neutral.

“Do tell.”

“I was lying. I do want more than this.” Banjo gestured at himself and his old clothes. Ricky dragged his gaze up and down him, and Banjo prickled with sweat. Ricky slowly walked around the desk up to him, crowding in his space. He was a head shorter than Banjo, but somehow still seemed to tower above him.

Ricky was staring into his eyes intensely now, looking for a shred of hesitancy. Banjo prayed that there was none. Seemingly satisfied, Ricky stepped back and Banjo felt himself calm down a little bit.

“Fine. Come back tomorrow, 5pm. You’re gonna help me figure out what happened last night.” Ricky turned away from him. Banjo blinked.

“Is that it?”

“What, are you waiting for me to make you polish my shoes?” Ricky glared at him, “I have to finish cleaning up. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Right.” Banjo nodded slowly. He backed out of the room. He felt Lucy’s gaze on him as he left the building. He wasn’t sure what to do now. Go back tomorrow at 5pm, he supposed.

Ricky watched Banjo leave, then sank into his desk chair. His shoulders were shaking, but he wasn’t sure if it was with fear or relief. He desperately needed the extra hands, so he was beyond glad that Banjo changed his mind. Some part of him wondered why, but he pushed it to the side. He listened to Banjo’s footsteps fade down the hallway. He was putting on a strong front, but he was terrified that the people who had attacked them were going to come back.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He stood up slowly, and decided to check all the windows one more time. It couldn’t hurt. All the windows were locked, as he was expecting. Good, he didn’t need to worry about that. He wandered back downstairs.

“Do you need any help, mama?” He called. Lucy looked up at him.

“No, we’re just wrapping up here,” She said, “What was McClintock here about?”

“You know how I told you he refused the offer last night?” Ricky said.

“Yes, and then I told you to look for other people.”

“He changed his mind.” Ricky said matter-of-factly. Lucy’s eyes widened.

“Oh. How surprising. Well, I’m glad. It will be good to have some more people on our side, especially given…” She trailed off. Ricky nodded.

“He’ll be back 5pm tomorrow. I’m going to see if I can figure out who came after us.”

“Good. It has to be someone new,” Lucy said as they walked out of the front room, “I didn’t recognize any of them.”

“Who do they think they are, coming into our city and thinking they can attack us.” he seethed. Lucy placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I know. It’s alarming, but we’ll put them into their places soon enough. Especially with McClintock with us, he sure knows how to shoot.”

“That was surprising.” Ricky agreed.

“He’ll be a good addition. I’m proud of you for recruiting him, Ricky.” She said with a gentle smile before she walked away, leaving Ricky standing in a silent hallway. He let out a soft sigh and turned away.

Banjo found himself alone in his silent apartment but still on edge once again. He’d long since closed the window and double checked that it was locked, but he still jumped at every noise. To try to ease some of the nerves, he decided to put on some music. Just some nice classical to fill the silence and make him feel a little less alone.

He’d always enjoyed classical music. He loved the way it could make him feel things, resonate with the experiences of whoever composed it despite having no idea the real circumstances. He liked the fullness of the music, each instrument having an important part that came together to make the piece work. An orchestra was a well-oiled machine. He supposed that crime families like the Goldsworths were a little like that. Well-oiled, each piece had a purpose. No, he didn’t like that thought. He didn’t just want to be a cog in the machine.

The sky was black outside, and Banjo drew the curtains closed. He retreated into his room, suddenly exhausted. There was a lot that he had to figure out tomorrow. How was he supposed to help Ricky figure out who was behind the attack without exposing himself? And without Ricky realizing he was lying? His head spun just trying to think about it. He blinked a few times, trying to clear the thoughts, then he turned over and shut his eyes. Eventually, he fell into a fitful sleep.

Ricky woke up feeling surprisingly well-rested the next morning. He rolled out of bed and wandered into the bathroom, running a hand through his dark hair. He styled the gentle waves out of his face and winked at himself in the mirror. He had to keep his morale up. Besides, Francesca was feeling better so she was coming over early in the afternoon. She would help him sort out his thoughts before introducing Banjo to their work.

He picked out a light gray pair of slacks, an off-white shirt and suspenders. Even if he didn’t feel put together, he had to look like it. Especially for the new guy. He lounged around for the next few hours, keeping his mind off of anything stressful. There would be plenty of that later.

Soon, far too soon, he heard a knock on his door.

“Ricky, open up!” Francesca’s clear voice cut through his thoughts.

“The door’s open, come in!” He called back. She came into the room in her usual sleek black dress and heels.

“Your mom told me you finally broke that poor waiter.” She laughed, and Ricky scowled at her. She sat herself down on his desk, next to where he had his legs propped up.

“He’s gonna be a good addition.”

“I’m sure.”

“He’s good with a gun.” He defended.

“I’m sure that’s not the only thing he’s good with.” She winked, and Ricky flushed.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Uh huh,” she giggled, “But what are you gonna have him do? We’re not really in the state to go on offense, you know.”

“Oh believe you me, I know,” he shuddered, “We have to get to the bottom of this. Find out who attacked us. He’s gonna help me with that.”

“Perfect. And I’m sure you want me on that as well…?” She tilted her head.

“Of course. Since you weren’t at the party, if you run into any of them, I’m sure they won’t be as suspicious.”

“Lucky me, not getting shot at.”

“I’m jealous.” Ricky huffed out a laugh. He pulled his legs down from the table and stood up.

“So, how do you plan on figuring out who this was?” Francesca asked. Ricky responded by digging through his desk and pulling out a few items he’d grabbed from the bodies.

“These.” He grinned. He had three signet rings in his hand, and a delicately embroidered handkerchief. He handed the kerchief to her.

“What am I supposed to do with this?”

“Looks pretty unique, right?” he asked, and she nodded, “See if you can find out whos it was.”

“Gotcha,” she plucked it out of his hand, “I’m gonna get going. Good luck with the newbie.”

“Yeah, thanks. Be safe, Fran.” He called after her.

“I always am!”

He spent the rest of the day reading in front of the fireplace. It was still raining, as it often did in winter. It felt nice to be cozied up to the fireplace during it, though. Not that he minded the rain, but he much preferred being warm and dry and watching the rain from afar. Through his very closed windows.

Hours later, as darkness was falling, he heard a knock at his door. He jerked his head up to see Banjo standing awkwardly at his doorway. Ricky stood up and stretched slowly, putting his book down on his chair.

“Good to see you didn’t get cold feet.” He commented, and Banjo flushed.

“Why would I?” He said, but Ricky ignored the response.

“Walk with me.” He breezed past Banjo into the hallway and started walking towards the library. After a moment, he heard Banjo’s shoes clicking on the floor after him. They walked silently, until Ricky came to the wooden double doors of the library. He swung them open and Banjo let out an audible gasp. He glanced over to see possibly the most emotion he’d ever seen on the man’s face.

“Wow,” he breathed, taking a step in, “If you’d told me from the get go that your library was this nice, I would’ve never refused.”

Ricky watched him turn around in wonder and felt an unfamiliar warmth in his chest. He stopped the smile that was threatening to pull at his lips.

“Come on, we have work to do.” He snapped his fingers, and Banjo looked back down at him.

“Right.” Ricky led him deeper into the library, hearing the man’s wonder at the fact that the library ‘ _ just kept on going! _ ’. Eventually they reached a tiny corner that Ricky preferred for private matters.

“Sit,” He commanded, and Banjo did just that, choosing a seat right up against the window, “You’re going to help me find out who attacked us.”

“I’ve only lived here for two and a half years, I don’t know if I’ll be that much help.”

“But you work at parties, correct?” Ricky said with a gleam in his eye. Banjo nodded, “I’m willing to bet that you’ve seen just about every kind of person this city has to offer. You can at the very least help me rule out people.”

“I guess so.”

Banjo watched as Ricky pulled down a notebook from the shelf and flipped it open. He’d scribbled down a few names already, but scratched them out.

“Here are our major enemies.” Ricky pointed.

_ Massaro _

_ Critelli _

_ Di Mascio _

“How do you know it wasn’t any of them? Wouldn’t they be the first suspects?” Banjo asked.

“Normally, yes. But I know them. They have class, they wouldn’t just show up at a party full of civilians and threaten them. No, if they want me they’d come for me,” Ricky said grimly, “And I would’ve recognized them.”

“But they hid their faces. Maybe they just wanted you to think it wasn’t them.”

“I looked at the bodies,” Ricky said casually, “I didn’t recognize them.” He watched Banjo swallow.

“Oh. Well, is there anyone up-and-coming who it could’ve been? Someone you don’t know very well?”

“It’s a possibility,” Ricky mused, “Though I can’t imagine anybody new would have the gall to do something like this.”

“Maybe they’re getting bold,” Banjo suggested, “After all, it was only you and Lucy hosting the party, that’s gotta cast some suspicion onto the state of things.”

“Are you saying we’re weak?” Ricky hissed, watching Banjo flinch backwards.

“N-No, I just-”

“Good.” Ricky smoothed out his shirt and the anger faded from his face. He fished one of the rings out of his pocket and placed it on the table in front of Banjo.

“Recognize this?” He asked. Banjo picked it up, face carefully neutral. He turned it over in his hands, examining it carefully. The image engraved on the ring was of a snake coiled around a sword. If it meant anything to Banjo, he didn’t show it.

“No. Should I?” He looked up.

“I was hoping you might have some idea.” Ricky sighed. He sat down in a chair across from Banjo.

“No. But there’s initials engraved on the inside of it as well.”

“Oh?” Ricky straightened up. He hadn’t noticed that, “Do you think it’s the head of whoever these people are?” Banjo shook his head.

“Do you have the rings of the others?” He asked. Ricky dug them out of his pocket and placed them on the table. Banjo looked them over, “Yeah no, these are the individuals initials. The first letters are all different.”

“How’d you know?” Ricky raised an eyebrow, but Banjo just shrugged.

“Call it a hunch.”

“Well, what are the initials?” Ricky pressed. Banjo looked at them all again.

“ A, K, and S M.” He said, and Ricky scribbled it down in his notebook.

“Still couldn’t be the Massaros. Their rings don’t look like this.”

“Hm.” Banjo nodded slowly.

“So, we know we’re looking for a family with the last name M. With a snake on their rings.”

“Mhhm. I can’t think of anyone I’ve worked for who fits that.” Banjo said.

“Not sure if that’s good or bad.” Ricky sighed. Banjo nodded in agreement.

Ricky watched as Banjo picked up one of the rings again with his slender fingers. He turned it around slowly over and over, expression unreadable. After a while his gaze flicked up to meet Ricky’s stare. Wordlessly he put the ring down and folded his hands. The air felt heavy between them, but Ricky wasn’t sure why.

Ricky stared until Banjo broke eye contact, then spoke.

“Call me if you find anything out.” He wrote his number on a corner of the page and ripped it off, handing it Banjo.

“Uh huh,” Banjo took it, then stood up, “Welp. I’m gonna head home.”

Ricky said nothing, instead watching him walk away. Banjo could feel his eyes burning into his back all the way until he left the library.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's no way this could possibly go wrong, right? No way at all.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Banjo was given orders to steal something from Ricky, to prove his loyalty to the Mattas. Easy, right? Just steal something small, something he wouldn’t miss, that’s what he thought. Much to his chagrin, that’s not what he’d meant. He was supposed to steal something the Mattas could sell. Or hold over Ricky’s head. Shit.  
> Banjo was pretty sure that he was on Ricky’s good side, but he sure wouldn’t be if he was caught. He’d said that he’d give a sign once he’d stolen something, like leave his curtains open or something. He had one week. Thankfully, Ricky gave him the perfect opportunity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I was writing I realized their relationship in this seemed more platonic so I tried to get a lil more romance in this bad boy, I hope it feels somewhat natural! Also this ended up being the last chapter, so enjoy!

Ricky was lounging across his couch as Francesca told her story. She’d gone out the previous few nights to try to figure out who the handkerchief had belonged to. She’d called him earlier in the morning to excitedly tell him that she was pretty sure she knew who it was. Now, she was standing in front of a table, pulling things out of her bag.

“Alright, so, you said it’s gotta be a last name with an M, right? Well, good news. That handkerchief belonged to one Salmone Matta, who very recently moved here. I was lucky to find someone here who even knew who he was.” She said. Ricky looked up.

“That matches one pair of initials we got on the rings.”

“Do these match?” Francesca asked, pulling out a newspaper from her bag and handing it over.

**Three Members of the Matta Family Reported Missing**

_ Anthony, Salmone and Kelvin Matta have not been seen since Friday night _

There was no picture attached, but Ricky was willing to bet that the three men fit the description of the men that had tried to shoot him. He’d gotten rid of their bodies rather effectively, and he didn’t think the police would be finding them any time soon.

“So, the Matta family, huh?” He mused. She nodded.

“The rest of the article talks about the mysterious circumstances, yada yada, but it also talks about how they’ve barely moved in. Nobody knows who they are, Ricky,” She leaned in, “Nobody.”

“Strange. They come to this town just to try to kill us? That doesn’t make sense.”

“I know,” She frowned, “If we don’t even know who they are, it can’t be personal, right?”

“I have no idea.”

“Me neither.”

Banjo was once again sitting silently listening to the music that filled his apartment. He hadn’t had any… run ins, recently, so he was starting to feel a little more at ease. He’d been back to the Goldworth’s house a few times, each time managing to keep suspicion away from himself. He hummed along with the music, standing up and stretching. He was starting to get hungry.

As he combed through his fridge to find something edible, he heard a shuffling noise behind him. He was too slow to turn around, however, and once again found a bag over his head. He sighed.

Back in the car that smelled like cigar smoke it was. At this point, Banjo was just annoyed that he wasn’t going to eat until much later. He was hungry, goddamn it! Once again he was guided out of the car, up the stairs, into the room. Once again, he was forced to his knees and the bag yanked from his head.

“Real nice chauffeur you’ve got.” He snarked. The man didn’t smile. Instead, he pointed to a chair. That was an upgrade, at least. Banjo sat.

“My men tell me that you’ve gotten in with the Goldsworths. Good.”

“How do you know that?” Banjo asked, swallowing heavily. In the back of his mind, he’d been pretty sure he was being watched. He didn’t like thinking about it.

“I’m sure you know the answer to that,” he waved his hand, “Anyway. What has he got so far?”

“Nothing much. Just initials. He knows you’re from out of town.” Banjo spoke slowly.

“Good, we still have time.” 

The next time Banjo goes to the Goldsworths, Lucy tells him to go straight up to the library. He does, and he only gets lost in the winding hallways a little. When he gets there, he doesn’t see Ricky immediately. He walks back to the spot they had sat last time, stepping lightly.

When he finds Ricky, he’s up on one of the library ladders. Banjo takes a moment just to look at him. The rare winter sunlight is shining through one of the large windows, making his bright white shirt glow against his skin. If Banjo didn’t know who he was, he’d almost say it was a nice sight. He cleared his throat, and Ricky jumped a little, spinning on the ladder to look at him. Had his eyes always been so intense?

“McClintock,” Ricky said, climbing down from the ladder, “Good to see you.”

“Lookin’ for anything in particular?” Banjo asked, nodding up to the shelves.

“Nothing really.” Ricky shook his head, “Just looking for something new to read.” It was a strange thought, someone like Ricky reading something just for fun. Of course he had to do things in his free time, but Ricky was not a person that Banjo thought about having ‘free time’.

“You find out anything new?” Banjo asked, hoping,  _ praying _ that the answer was no. 

“Actually, yes. Francesca came by this morning, and she found out what family we’re dealing with.” Banjo attempted to make an inquisitive sound, but it came out strangled. Ricky gave him a look, “What?”

“Sorry, frog in my throat,” He coughed, “Who is it?”  _ Please be wrong somehow, please be wrong, please be wrong, please- _

“The Mattas.” Ricky said absently, sliding a newspaper across the table to Banjo.

Banjo looked down at the newspaper and felt his heart sink. Ricky was firmly on the right track. Was there any way he could steer him away?

“Are you sure it’s the Mattas?” He said weakly, knowing how stupid he sounded the moment the words left his mouth. Ricky looked at him sharply.

“Did you even look at this?” He shook the paper, “Anthony, Salmone, and Kelvin Matta disappeared. Nobody knows who they are, they just recently moved here. The question is, why? Why us? Why now, of all times.” Ricky shook his head slowly. He sounded… well, like he had emotions for once. Banjo almost felt sorry for him.

“I honestly doubt it’s personal,” Banjo offered, “H- They probably just saw a big fancy house and figured it would be a good one to go for.” Ricky laughed, actually  _ laughed  _ at that. It was almost endearing.

“You’re probably right. I just wish we were in a state to do something about it.”

“Who says we’re not?” Banjo raised his eyebrows. Dear god, why did he talk.

“Really?” Ricky scoffed, “We’ve got four people. Three, because my mother isn’t directly involved in most of what we do. Two, really, because I still don’t know if I can trust you.”

“You can trust me.” Banjo assured him. Ricky hummed.

“We’ll see about that, McClintock, we’ll see.”

Banjo was given orders to steal something from Ricky, to prove his loyalty to the Mattas. Easy, right? Just steal something small, something he wouldn’t miss, that’s what he thought. Much to his chagrin, that’s not what he’d meant. He was supposed to steal something the Mattas could sell. Or hold over Ricky’s head. Shit.

Banjo was pretty sure that he was on Ricky’s good side, but he sure wouldn’t be if he was caught. He’d said that he’d give a sign once he’d stolen something, like leave his curtains open or something. He had one week. Thankfully, Ricky gave him the perfect opportunity.

He’d been woken up at around one in the morning by the ringing of a phone. Groggily he slipped out of bed and answered it.

“McClintock. Get to the Goldsworth’s house asap.” A woman’s voice said.

“Wh- who is this?” He mumbled, still half asleep.

“You’ll find out soon enough.” The phone clicked off, and Banjo stayed silent, holding the phone for a good minute. Finally, he put it back down with a sigh. He stretched and then started getting dressed once again.

Banjo made it to the house in good time. When he got there, most of the lights were off. One that was on was roughly where he thought the library was. He made his way through the mostly dark building to the library, where he found Ricky, Lucy, and a woman he didn’t recognize. He assumed it was the woman who had called him. Ricky was the first to notice him, and he stood up from his chair to meet him.

“Banjo, this is Francesca Norris.” He nodded towards the woman. She was Ricky’s height in heels, with wavy black hair. Banjo held out his hand.

“Nice to meet you.” He said, and she shook his hand.

“Mhhm.” She turned back to the table. Ricky sat down, and Banjo did the same.

“Well, now that we’re all here, let’s get started.” Lucy looked at Ricky, who cleared his throat.

“Alright. Well, thanks to Francesca, we now know exactly who we’re dealing with.” Ricky said. Francesca nodded, taking a sheet of paper out of her bag and placing it on the table. Banjo’s blood ran cold.

“Vito “The Viper” Matta,” Franesca’s clear voice managed to cut through the fog of anxiety that was taking over Banjo’s brain, “From out of state. He was pretty successful until a few too many of his people deserted, about two years ago. He tried to keep things running, but he couldn’t. Guess he came here to find a new start.” She laughed sharply.

“Well, I guess the snake on the ring makes sense now.” Banjo said numbly. Ricky nodded.

“Francesca even found a place that he frequents, so we can be decently sure to catch him.” Ricky said.

“We’ll tail him from a bar back to his home, break in, and get what needs done done.” Francesca said.

“He’s gonna have people there for sure.” Banjo frowned.

“All we need to do is get rid of him. The rest comes later.” Ricky said. Banjo felt a sinking feeling in his stomach, but nodded along anyways. 

It was the afternoon before they were going after Vito. Banjo was sitting in the library with Ricky and Francesca, bouncing his leg nervously. His mouth had been dry all day and every time he thought about what they were doing, a wave of nausea came over him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he should’ve stolen something from Ricky and talked to Vito already. But he hadn’t. And now, Vito was going to catch him along with the others that evening, and presumably torture him until he died.

No, Banjo really wasn’t cut out for this kind of stuff. Heaving a deep sigh, he stood up from his chair. Ricky looked up at him, and he mumbled something about needing to use the bathroom. He walked as quickly as he could without looking suspicious, out of the library, turning left to go to Ricky’s office. He closed the door behind him but not completely, knowing that it would make a loud click.

He stood over Ricky’s desk, suddenly at a loss of what to look for. He opened a drawer as silently as he could, combing through for anything valuable. Anything Vito might want. Just as he was closing the drawer, he felt something cold against his back and a hand wrapped itself around his mouth.

“I knew you were a rat.” Ricky’s voice, low and angry came from behind him. He heard a click, and he realized the cold thing was a gun being pressed against his spine. Ricky slowly pulled him backwards, still only holding his hand over his mouth. 

Ricky spun him around, keeping the gun still trained on him as he pushed Banjo against the desk. Banjo’s eyes were wide with fear. Though, faintly, he supposed that Ricky shooting him was a better fate then whatever awaited him if Vito got him.

“You’re working for Vito, huh?” Ricky’s voice was neutral but his eyes betrayed him, glinting with rage.

“Y-Yeah.” Banjo mumbled. 

“Speak up.” Ricky placed the gun under Banjo’s chin.

“I-I said yes.”

“Why, what did he offer you?”

“Not to kill me.” Banjo lifted his chin, trying in vain to get away from the gun, but Ricky pressed it insistently against his jaw.

“Funny. You didn’t think I’d catch you, hm?” Ricky held his gaze, “Because there’s very little stopping me from shooting you right now. Vito won’t know a thing.” In a moment of bravery, Banjo found himself asking,

“Then why haven’t you? Why haven’t you shot me yet?” Immediately the gun was pressed harder into his jaw and Ricky’s grip tightened. Banjo shut his eyes, waiting for the bullet. But it never came.

“Does Vito know?” Was all Ricky said. Banjo cracked his eyes open. Ricky was staring at him still, expression unreadable. The gun lowered the tiniest amount.

“What?”

“Does Vito know our plan. For tonight.”

“No. Not unless he’s spying on you, no.” Banjo said. He could’ve cried with relief when Ricky lowered the gun all the way. He took a step back, looking Banjo up and down.

“Good.” Ricky said. Before Banjo could say anything else, Ricky smacked him on the head with the butt of the gun and Banjo crumpled to the ground.

  
  


“Just you and me, Fran.” Ricky walked back into the library. Francesca looked at him sharply.

“What about McClintock?” She asked with a frown. Ricky shook his head.

“Working for Vito.” 

“What?” She hissed, “Then Ricky, we shouldn’t- Vito probably knows!”

“He doesn’t. I asked Banjo.”

“How do you know he isn’t lying?” She crossed her arms.

“I don’t think he’s capable of lying. Not when I’ve got a gun to his head.” Ricky sighed. Francesca’s expression softened.

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this tonight. It’s just the two of us, it might not go so well.” She said. Ricky shook his head slowly.

“We have to do it before he realizes we know about McClintock. We’ll still be able to catch him by surprise.” He said. Francesca bit her lip, but finally nodded.

“You’re right. We’ll have to be extra careful.”

“I always am.” He tried to grin.

Ricky sat in his car, slumped in his seat to keep out of view. He tapped his fingers absently on his lap. He kept thinking about Banjo McClintock. Why hadn’t he shot him? It would’ve been so easy. Now he was going to have to deal with him when he got back home. He was earnestly disappointed. Banjo was a smart man, a good shot, and had been decent to spend time with. Ricky pushed the thoughts out of his mind. He couldn’t get stuck inside his own head tonight. Any other night, not this one.

A gentle rap on the window made him jerk his head up. Francesca was outside the window. He unlocked the car and straightened up in his seat as she climbed into the car. He didn’t start the engine until she pointed out the car.

“That one,” She pointed to one on the other side of the street that someone was getting into, “It’s just Vito. Nobody else.”

He waited until the other car was almost out of sight before starting after it. He went slowly, making sure to keep out of view. Eventually Vito pulled into the driveway of a large old house. Ricky parked around a corner so Vito wouldn’t see them. 

Together they watched him go into the house. They didn’t see anyone greet him at the door, so they hoped he was alone. They crept around the back of the house. The basement windows were level with the yard, and Ricky managed to pry one of them open silently. He hopped into the dark basement, Francesca following quickly after him and replacing the window. They both checked their guns, making sure they were loaded.

He listened for footsteps on the floor above them, hearing them walk in a straight line over his head. Down a hallway, presumably. He and Francesca crept up the stairs, looking around to make sure there was nobody around. It was clear, so they followed the directions he was pretty sure the footsteps went. They ended up down a narrow hallway. Ricky spotted a door that was cracked open, and light was spilling from it. There was music playing softly from it. Ricky nodded towards the door, and Francesca walked to the other side of it, drawing her gun.

Ricky drew his gun as well, and together they swung the door open, guns raised. Ricky’s eyes widened. The room was empty, and he felt sick when he heard the floor creak behind them. Instinctively he ducked to the side, bringing Fran with him. A shot rang out as he did so. When he looked up, he saw the man he assumed to be Vito Matta. He was a large man with rings glittering across his fingers and an angry grimace.

“Goldsworth.” He spat, aiming his gun at Ricky again. Ricky backed up until he felt a table behind him. Thinking quickly, he grabbed the table and flipped it against Vito. It broke against him and knocked him to the ground. 

“Ricky, there’s more of them!” Francesca yelled, and sure enough, there were more footsteps pounding down the hallway. Two more men burst through the door.

“Shit!” He yelped as one of them fired towards him(missing) and the other helped Vito to his feet. One of the men started lunging towards him and he fell backwards trying to get away. The man fell after him, grabbing him in a headlock. Ricky elbowed him in a desperate attempt the get away, but it didn’t do much. He saw out of the corner of his eye that Francesca was also being restrained.

“Let me go!” He growled, but Vito just chuckled.

“I’m gonna take everything you’ve built, Goldsworth.” He smirked. He raised his gun and Ricky squeezed his eyes shut.

**_BANG BANG BANG_ **

Three shots rang out, but Ricky found himself in no pain. The arm around his neck loosened, so he opened his eyes.

The man restraining him had fallen away, and same with Francesca, who was staring at him in bewildered silence. They both looked to Vito just in time to see him crumple to the floor, revealing a figure behind him.

Standing over Vito as he clutched his chest and bled was none other than Banjo McClintock, holding a gun that was still smoking and with a handcuff hanging from one wrist. All Ricky could do was stare as Banjo walked over to him and helped him up. Ricky shuddered with relief, looking up at Banjo.

“I- How did you- I could honestly kiss you right now.” He stumbled. Banjo looked shocked, but then laughed.

“You’re welcome to.” he shrugged. Ricky pulled him down and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. Honestly, he wasn’t expecting to enjoy it as much as he did, the idea coming out of the rush of adrenaline, but… he liked it. And he also liked it when Banjo leaned down and kissed him again.

“So, how’d you escape?” Ricky asked as he drove them all back.

“Just kinda… wiggled out of the handcuffs.” Banjo shrugged.

“Well, I’m glad that you ended up on our side.” Francesca said.

“Me too. Thought I was dead.” Ricky said. Banjo nodded.

“I dunno. I just… you’d seemed like you really wanted my help. I felt bad.”

“Well, hopefully next time you’ll think twice before double-crossing me, huh?”

“Technically, I was double-crossing Vito.” Banjo corrected, and Ricky snorted.

“Whatever.”

Francesca went home soon after they returned, but Banjo hung around Ricky’s office for a little while after. Ricky had just finished explaining what had happened to his groggy mother, who had given Banjo a suspicious look but said nothing. Ricky seemingly noticed Banjo’s hesitancy to leave.

“You know, you can go home. I’m not gonna show up to your house and kill you, I promise.” Ricky said with a raised eyebrow. That wasn’t what Banjo was worried about, however.

“I’m sorry,” He blurted suddenly, “I should’ve told you, and then we could’ve gotten rid of Vito together instead of you almost-”

“It’s okay,” Ricky closed the distance between them, putting his arms around Banjo’s waist, “I get why you didn’t.”

“Real understanding for a criminal.” Banjo said halfheartedly, face flushing at their close proximity. Ricky smirked.

“Very funny.”

“I uh, was also wondering,” Banjo tugged at his collar, “Could I maybe stay here tonight? Vito’s other guys know where I live, and they probably aren’t gonna be too happy with me.”

“Of course. Come on, you can sleep with me.” Ricky started pulling him along.

“Oh, okay, if you’re sure. I don’t mind sleeping somewhere el-”

“What, you don’t wanna sleep with me?” Ricky turned around, eyes glimmering. Banjo’s face got even redder, “That’s a shame.”

“I- I do, I just don’t want to intrude.” Banjo choked out, watching how Ricky’s eyes travelled up and down his body.

“You’re not intruding, trust me. Now come on.” Ricky pulled him along again. Banjo allowed himself a small, flustered smile.

  
  


The next morning Banjo awoke feeling surprisingly not-dead. He’d been half expecting Vito’s men to come and kill them in their sleep, but nothing of the sort had happened. He sat up and blinked the sleep out of his eyes. Ricky was pressed against his side, snoring soundly. He smiled. It had been a little unexpected, but hey, Banjo was far from upset. He gently shook Ricky’s shoulder, who looked up at him sleepily.

“What?” He grumbled.

“I’m gonna head back home, see if they broke in or anything.” He said softly. He started to get up, but he wasn’t expecting Ricky to do the same.

“I’ll come with you.”

“You don’t have to-” He protested, but Ricky held up a hand.

“Just cause they usually come at night doesn’t mean they won’t decide to pay you a visit today. It’s safer if we stick together.”

“Alright. Just don’t shoot my neighbors.” He said with a snort.

Banjo unlocked his apartment to find it about as he expected. That is to say, completely ransacked. His coffee table was overturned, books were on the floor, even the fridge was hanging open. He sighed. He could feel Ricky seething with rage beside him, but honestly he wasn’t that bothered.

He stepped through the wreckage, checking all the rooms to find them in similar shape. At least his record collection was still intact. He was surprised that they hadn’t touched that, actually. As he came back to Ricky, he saw a note on the inside of the door. He pulled it off and sighed.

_ Bastard _

_ We’ll be coming for you. Watch your back. You can’t hide forever _

Ricky snatched it from his and scanned it, then crumpled it into a ball angrily.

“I won’t let them touch you.” He growled. Banjo pulled him in for a kiss.

“I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all, folks! Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! I'm not super proud of this one, but I hope it was still a fun read. I've got another BFU fic that I'm even more excited for that I'm working on, so stay tuned for that! It's a little more well thought out than this one lol.  
> Anyway, thanks again for reading! Happy almost new year!

**Author's Note:**

> Uh oh. Tune in soon(?) to see what happens! Next chapter should be longer.


End file.
